


Ashes and Ruins

by sunaddicted



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Blood, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Gothmog and Thuringwethil are good friends, M/M, Mild Gore, bottom!Melkor, top!Mairon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>«Your forgiveness tastes like a corpse: rotten»</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ashes and Ruins

_Ashes and Ruins_

Melkor sat on a stool by the fireplace, where only embers gently simmered and faintly lit up the darkness of his bedroom. Kneeling in between his muscled legs, his Lieutenant was bandaging his perpetually burned hands, long and capable fingers mindful of the horrible injuries, and the Vala was entranced by the way his silky and wavy red hair burned in the dark - a familiar flame exclusively dancing for him, bringing back memories of long hours spent worshipping his Maia.

But the redhead obstinately kept his lips pressed in a thin line and a deep frown marred the smooth perfection of his forehead; he was distant as if they had never loved each other in front of that fireplace.

Truth to be told, Melkor had expected Mairon to be quite furious with him - he himself admitted he had handled the situation rather badly; what he hadn't foretold were the coldness and detachment coming in thick and chocking waves from his beloved Maia, the one he had dreamt about while prisoner in the Halls of Mandos in a vain attempt to cling to his sanity.

Somehow, it was quite out of character for his Maia's sparkling and passionate personality: Mairon was one of those people who screamed abuse at you when enraged, only to fuck you in the mattress the following second - something Melkor had looked forward to.

Mairon made a quick and efficient work of the bandages and soon was again on his feet, smoldering eyes cast downwards as if he found the carpets particularly interesting «May I be excused, Master?» he asked, his voice low and icy.

The Vala frowned: the Maia had never referred to him as 'master' «I thought you were done with your duties today» He couldn't wait for finally falling into bed with his Mairon and cuddle with him, reacquainting himself with the familiar and lithe body of his lover.

«I am» Mairon confirmed, eyes still focused on the floor «I merely wish to retire for the night»

It was those words that made Melkor realize that the Maia's knickknacks had disappeared from his room, that now looked bare and unwelcoming: it was as clear as day that nobody had slept in there during his captivity. His frown deepened and sadness horribly twisted his beautiful and kissable mouth «Where do you sleep, Mai?»

«In the dungeons, Master» answered the Maia, carelessly shrugging his shoulders as if the Vala hadn't just let the old nickname roll down his tongue «I like being able to watch upon the prisoners»

«It's unhealthy down there and you know it» Not only because of the stench of fear and death permeating the air, but also because of the horrid and chocking atmosphere of hopelessness and madness; not even the Orcs were able to permanently live in those chambers and took turns every other year «Come back in our rooms»

Respectfully, the Maia shook his head in denial «I'd like to maintain my privacy, Master» Mairon had grown used to living by his own, only the scarce weight of his body to warm his sheets and the voice of his mind to keep him company: solitude had become the norm, a secretly cherished friend that had taught him independence. Melkor reached out for him but Mairon took a step back, refusing the touch of his former lover: the mere idea of giving in the loving caresses and comforting embraces no one believed Melkor capable to bestow, made his skin feel taut and ready to burst.

«Mai... »

«Please, Master. I'd like to rest»

Defeated, Melkor let him walk away, his heart painfully shrinking as he watched Mairon's subtly muscled back disappear behind the door. 

* * *

 

The following day, Melkor sat on his throne, eyes heavy with tiredness after a sleepless night: he had never rested alone in that bed, his mind always soothed by Mairon's comforting and familiar presence amidst the silky sheets. He could feel Gothmog's worried gaze weighting on his shoulder but he ignored the Balrog; his attention couldn't be spared for anything but his Lieutenant, who was droning a report of what had happened during his imprisonment. And still, despite his focus, he couldn't be bothered to listen to his speech.

Mairon stood proud in the middle of the room dressed in a mortifying black robe pooling at his feet and his red hair spilling like fresh blood, held back from his snow-white face by an unadorned circlet of gold. The Maia looked like a mourning soul and Melkor couldn't help thinking Mairon's despair was because of his return - had his captivity been so long that his lover had banished him from his heart?

Suddenly, an Orc made his entrance and cowered at the sight of Angband Lieutenant «My lord Sauron, the prisoner is awake»

Sauron? Since when speaking that name was permitted? The Vala remembered quite vividly how his Mairon hated being called 'the Abhorred' and the force of his raging punishments whenever he heard someone referring at him like that.

The Maia arched an eyebrow «And what about kneeling for your Master?» The Orc's beady eyes widened almost comically before he dropped on the ground and started sobbing broken apologies in Black Speech. Melkor waved his bandaged hand to signal his acceptance but the creature didn't stop whimpering and trembled hard as Mairon approached him.

As the Maia removed a leather glove and outstretched his pale and elegant hand, even Gothmog tensed in fear - the Balrog, who had never felt anything but fraternal love for the little Maia.

«I'll teach you respect» Mairon hissed before touching the Orc's disgusting face.

Screams and the stench of burning flesh immediately poisoned the air.

Noticing his Master's bewildered expression, Gothmog leaned in to whisper in his ear «And this is why he goes by Sauron now»

* * *

 

«He still loves you» Thuringwethil's sudden words shook the mightiest of the Valar from the contemplation of his miserable thoughts

«What?» he asked, not sure about who was the subject of her sentence.

The vampire huffed, clearly displeased with his slow thinking «Mai, he never stopped loving you»

At least she didn't call him Sauron «How can you tell? He shied away from my touch» It still hurt, conjuring up the memory of the Maia stepping back in order to avoid the caress.

Another huff escaped Thuringwethil's lips «We're talking about Mai here, Master: he never was particularly comfortable with lots of touching and when you were taken, he locked himself away in the dungeons, denying himself even mine or Gothmog's hugs» Sadness spread all over her sharp features «He's no more used to displays of affection»

«Why did you let him do this to himself?» Melkor found strange that Thuringwethil and Gothmog had let Mairon be: they were nosy and annoying friends and they had shared a very close and intimate bond with his sweet and shy Maia.

The look the vampire shot him would have made Melkor hysterical with fear, hadn't he been the mightiest of the Valar «Don't you think we tried? He burned us, Master, and threatened to bury our spoiled corpses in the dungeons with those of the Elves'»

Tentatively, Melkor wrapped her in his arms and hugged her tightly in order to placate the upset twist of her mouth «I'm sorry» Usually he hated apologizing but the vampire, the Balrog and the Maia were the exceptions.

Thuringwethil sniffed «I want my Mai back» Mairon was the closest she had ever had to a parent and like a child she had cherished his warm embraces and his words of praise. All those years, it had been horrible to witness the Maia losing his ability to feel, gradually mutating into a cold-hearted monster «He used to give the best cuddles in whole Arda»

Melkor nodded and loosened the hug: he too wasn't a very tactile person - his beautiful lover had, once again, been an exception «I'll do everything to bring him back»

«Just apologize» she advised him «Tell him you’re sorry for having been an idiot and, consequently, leaving him alone for so long»

* * *

 

Mairon only tilted his head to the side to acknowledge his Master's entrance in his chambers and went on scribbling, stopping only to dip his quill in the inkpot. When, after ten minutes, the Vala didn't say anything, Mairon raised his gaze and plastered a pleasant smile on his face «What can I do for you, Master?»

Hearing that submissive noun leave his proud Maia's lips made Melkor cringe «I'm sorry» he blurted «I'm sorry for having let them capture me and keep us apart for so many years»

Mairon nodded coldly, not really letting the words sink in his hardened heart; he would never have to feel that pain again, if he didn't trust the Vala - at least with his fragile feelings «You have nothing to be sorry for, Master»

«Your forgiveness tastes like a corpse: rotten»

Mairon got up and stalked to the Vala, his irises burning with a mix of grief and anger «And your pleas of forgiveness taste like the sweat of a sinner praying a god in its temple: rancid» he hissed, feeling a flush blossoming on his milky skin, creeping out the collar of his flimsy charcoal grey robe. Suddenly, he was extremely aware of being barely dressed in front of his former lover. Stepping back, Mairon collected himself and faked another smile «I've got some paperwork to fill in, Master»

Melkor bristled at the clear dismissal «What do you want more from me?» he had apologized and meant it too.

«Actually, to be left alone to do my duties!»

«Fine! Do what you want!» Melkor shouted before storming out of the barely lit room, only to stumble in the twilight of the dungeons, pregnant with screams and the stench of death.

* * *

 

 

The filthy Elf under him had stopped breathing and whimpering long ago, when Sauron reached an unsatisfying orgasm that left him feeling even more enraged and disgusted with himself. Unsheathing himself from the twitching corpse, the Maia wrinkled his nose and tossed it away: it was nothing more than a skinned body, muscles and raw flesh sickly glowing a cherry red under the soft light of the few torches, once blond and silky hair was now a bloody mess of tangled knots, blood still poured from the lipless and tongueless mouth.

«My lord Sauron, Master is asking for you» An Orc informed him, focusing on the pulp of flesh and bone splattered on the marbled floor in order to not gaze at the partial nudity the Angband Lieutenant carelessly sported.

Irritated with the Vala, Sauron choose not to change and stormed upstairs to the Throne Room while tucking his shirt drenched in blood and entrails in the equally filthy breeches and trying to ignore the unnerving squeaking of his humid boots.

The Orcs standing guard in front of the huge and heavy doors immediately freed the passage for him, wisely afraid for their lives should they displease him.

«WHAT?!»

As the Vala heard Mairon’s raised voice, he looked up and immediately took in his disheveled appearance «None of that blood is yours, right?» he asked, anxiety and arousal making his heart beat faster.

Sauron sneered «Of course not. Things got a bit messy with a prisoner» Probably messier than his former lover would have liked to know, but he had no intention of telling him how he had literally fucked to death the Elf.

Melkor gulped down the saliva that had pooled in his mouth: he loved it when his innocent looking Maia showed to the world his true and ruthless self. In that moment, waves of dominance came from Mairon, still incredibly beautiful despite the blood and bits of flesh drying on his skin and his sinful clothes: who did wear a fucking thin silken shirt and a pair of adherent leather trousers to torture someone? «Leave us» he commanded to the Orcs skulking in the deep shadows, while keeping his eyes focused on his Maia’s tongue lapping at the blood crusted at the corner of his plush mouth.

Sauron remembered what the look in Melkor’s eyes meant, having had it fixed on him quite often since the first time they had met: the Vala wanted to be fucked into the next Age – an offer he had never complained about: only Mairon, the Admirable, was permitted to dominate the mightiest of the Valar and only because Melkor loved him; he knew that the Dark lord had never trusted his casual fucks enough to truly be himself in the bedroom «What can I do for you, Master?»

«Do you still love me?»

Saying that Sauron hadn’t expected that question was a blatant lie «I will always love you» he admitted. Telling the truth about his feelings didn’t mean he necessarily had to act upon them: he was still hurting from having been left alone for so long.

«Will you ever forgive me and welcome me again?» A bit of hope had blossomed in the Vala’s heart: if his Mai still loved him, he certainly could find a way to once again gain his trust.

«I’ve already forgiven you» Sauron smirked: it wasn’t his fault the Vala hadn’t believed him the previous day «It wasn’t completely your responsibility – you could have been more careful, though»

«Yeah, I could have been»

The smile Mairon gave Melkor was so bright and warm that the Vala asked himself why he had he gone after the Silmarils: surely, his lover shone more than any gem both in Arda and Valinor.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and the comments on the previous fics: they mean the world!  
> I'm really interested in your opinions, so keep telling me what do you think about my writing <3


End file.
